Home is Where the Heart Is
Apparently perfect grades,
looks, and personality wasn't enough in this house; because that's all it was –
a house. This wasn't home. Home is a happy family eating together at the dinner
table, singing songs in the car ride, or playing in the backyard with the
sprinkler. Home was a place she was content just by being in her family's
presence. Here, after school, Ashley went straight to her room and closed the
door, locking herself away from everyone else. She knew what a home was really
like, because Ashley used to have one. Her mom died only a year ago, which
caused Ashley to live full time with her father. They say you don't know what
you have until it's gone, and the words have never seemed so genuine.
She opens her front door, not
really focusing on the bickering of her father and stepmom. Nothing too out of
the ordinary; the fighting has occasionally occurred in the past. But lately
the drama at her house has been a little too frequent. Ashley briskly walked
past them but was stopped by her father.
Out of nowhere, a blow on her
right cheek burned; giving off an immediate feel of raging anger. Her body
shook as she tried to process what had just happened. Maybe she was
overreacting; this wasn’t physical abuse. She'd realized something wasn't right
as her dad's tone turned to that of a roaring lion. His words stung as painful
as his physical actions. Convincing herself her father was just drunk again,
Ashley turned towards her stepmom for a rational explanation why he was
especially wicked today.
Her exploited face automatically
displayed a suspicious sense of overwhelming guilt. What was her stepmom
hiding? This wasn't like any of the other times Ashley had gotten into trouble
with her parents. Ashley was judged guilty, with no right to a trial. But she
hadn't even done anything. She was accused of filing against her parents for
neglect in court. Her stepmom once again had made up lies to her father, so
that he resented Ashley even more. And to
get her father infuriated in such a way meant trouble and danger. It seemed
so low, for a woman this old to degrade such a young girl of 15.
The deafening sound of screaming
filled the entire room, intoxicating her amount of respect towards her father.
Realizing she was reaching a peak in her anger, Ashley's spirit cracked and spilt
into pieces. She couldn't take it anymore. Her stepmom cackled at Ashley's cries,
distancing her even more from this "family." This is not a family, nowhere
close. Evil step-moms were meant for the
movies, not reality. Her father clearly couldn't hear her out, so she faded
back into the numbness she'd practiced so hard to perfect. A blank mind healed faster than a traumatized
one. It was just too much. But all this –
the heartbreaking, unbelievable unloving family, the absence of mother from the
picture, the high-standardized pressure, and the craziness and stress of it all
– made the impact on the girl.
Ashley couldn't pretend to love
them anymore when at the pits of her soul lurked the truth: it never was
supposed to be like this. Perfection wasn't the solution to any of her
problems, and her "family" wouldn't accept her either way. She sprinted
away from this deceptive atmosphere as fast as her legs could take her - out of
that house. She ran radiant and quick,
fully aware of her situation. She ran until her legs finally gave out, just
in time. There before was her mother's gravestone.
Standing there staring at the
letters, the numbers that made up the words on a simple rock. Ashley felt her
mother's protective arms around her as she inhaled the crisp clean air of the
beautiful autumn evening. "Mom, I've missed you so much." A sense of
relief rushed over her as she felt a sense of belonging – she finally had
returned home.
